Consequences
by happyday girl
Summary: Tag to Born Under a Bad Sign. Two weeks after Sam's possession, the boys are finishing a job just outside Sioux Falls. They plan to spend a last night in their motel before heading off for another job- until they get jumped. Now they're in the hands of some angry hunters who want revenge for their dead friend, and they don't want to listen to reason... hurt!Sam, bamf!Dean. R&R?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! So I've been re-watching all the old episodes, and had this idea ^^ hurt!Sam (and Dean), along with very Protective, Bamf!Dean. Enjoy!**

The rain patterned a beat onto the hood of the Impala as Dean sat in the driver's seat, humming along to a Metallica tune as he waited for Sam to get back. Rivers of water cascaded down the windshield, making the orange light from the streetlight look jagged and foggy at the same time. Dean was racing the drops as they slipped down the glass, before he stopped as he realised he was getting a little _too much_ joy out of drops of water. He decided to do some more work, instead-A crash of thunder made the elder Winchester look up from his newspaper, arching an eyebrow as the rain fell harder. He circled a probable case- a woman claiming she'd been attacked by a guy with two heads and blue eyes- in thick red pen before folding it up and stowing it away in the backseat. Cases had been few and far between these past couple days, and he was starting to itch with boredom.

He looked down at the illuminated clock on his dash. 12.17 AM, it read in green letters. He sighed and turned on the ignition as the windows started steaming over, grateful for the heat from the blowers as he turned them to full blast.

'Come on Sammy,' he groaned, rolling his eyes. 'How long does it take?' He sat back and looked round at the inhabitants of the small town just outside Brandon in South Dakota. It looked pretty easy going; nothing kooky going on... Which was why Dean had decided they were going to leave as soon as possible. So far he'd seen an old man walking a dog, two ladies trying not to fall over in heels in the rain, and some kids peering into the darkened windows of a comic book shop, probably thinking of what they'd buy in the morning. A pair of teens walked by, hand in hand as they made their way home from the cinema down the road, and as the minutes ticked by, Dean was itching to get back to their motel for some rest before they hit the road again. A peal of unexpected thunder startled him, making him jolt his arm against his seat. The bullet wound on his shoulder, healing annoyingly slowly, flared in pain, making Dean feel a little sick. 'Damn it…' he whispered to himself, rolling his shoulder a little. He had had to stop himself reacting to any pain associated with it when he was around Sam, because every time he did he'd catch the guy looking at him with a sad look in his eyes, and he'd had to reassure him that everything was fine. He couldn't face the guilt in his brother's eyes again, even though it wasn't his fault.

The door opened to his side, and he turned to see Sam folding himself into the passenger seat, arms laden with bags. 'You get it?' He asked, voice full of hope.

Sam arched an eyebrow, an incredulous look on his face. 'You'd think I'd come back if I didn't?' He replied.

'Sometimes I don't know with you...'

'Relax Dean, I got it...' Sam muttered, handing his older brother a bag, in which emanated a now familiar smell of grease and artery clogging fat.

'Ahh, perfect...!' Dean moaned with glee as he tore at the white plastic. 'Extra onions?' He shot at his brother before he took a bite.

'As usual..' Sam muttered in a resigned tone as he watched his brother take a big bite of his turkey burger. 'You know, you could try a salad one time?'

The look Dean gave him should have killed him, Sam reasoned. 'Or...not.' He added, opening the packet to his BLT sandwich and taking a bite. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the music, before Sam cleared his throat.

'You know, we haven't visited Bobby for a while,' he started, shrugging at his brother as Dean gave him a look.

'No, it's too early.' He replied, wiping his mouth of the grease and melted cheese that had accumulated at the corners.

'Dean, it's been two weeks.'

'I'm telling you it's not long enough, Sammy,' Dean muttered, 'People like that don't stop looking after two weeks.' He threw his burger wrapper into the backseat and settled in for the drive to their motel. 'They're still out there, I'm telling you- I figured coming here was just as close as we could get without being spotted.'

'We can't hide forever Dean.' Sam grumbled, 'it's not like you to hide, anyway.'

'Oh excuse me for not wanting to get any closer to the bastards that might just kill you if they find you!' Dean snapped as he turned the car into Main Street. He softened as he saw Sam slump back in his seat. 'Look,' he muttered, wiping a hand down his tired face, 'I know hiding ain't my thing, but we gotta lay low just for a little while longer while we're this close to what happened ...' He shrugged figuring he didn't need to explain any more than that. 'I know it didn't happen near Bobby, but if the trail we leave comes back to him then that's on us, y'know?' He looked across to Sam, who nodded as he tried to ignore the twinge of guilt that he always felt when thinking back to that night.

'Besides, if we came any closer and if- God forbid- something did happen to you?' Dean carried on as he turned into the Motel. 'I'd never forgive myself.' He turned off the ignition after swinging into a parking space. 'Understand?'

'Of course I do, Dean.' Sam replied, opening his door. 'It just feels wrong to hide.'

'Believe me, I hate it too, but if it's between that and watching some hunters bent on revenge giving you a pounding and me not being able to stop it, I'd take hiding under a rock every time.' He grinned as Sam gave a small smile.

'And besides, we're leaving in the morning. We're goin to New York for a couple days... Found a gig that might be good.'

'Oh really?' Sam replied, nose wrinkled as the rain still came down. They made their way to their motel amid a barrage of water and thunder as the storm really rolled in.

'Yup. Possible Wendigo in some woods.' Dean shrugged. 'Killed some hikers, figured we could deal with it and then have some downtime for a couple days?'

'Downtime?' Sam felt his heart lighten. 'Sounds good.'

'Great!' Dean grinned, hooking the key to their room from his inner jacket pocket. He paused, something hard falling into the pit of his stomach as he went to put it in the door. 'Sammy, go back to the car and wait for me there.' He whispered, voice dark.

'What?' Sam replied, instantly alert. 'Dean?'

'Go back to the car. Now.' Dean repeated in a hard voice. He quickly fumbled with the key, replacing it with a handgun from his waistband. He always locked their motel doors, and they had been out all day- the door was now ajar, with the room beyond in pitch dark.

Sam stepped back, letting logic in. 'Maybe the maid came in or-'

'Sam I won't tell you again.' Dean replied, for he had now caught a smell that brought him back to his youth with a horrible jolt. Something he hadn't smelled in years- a certain brand of gun cleaning solution that only men of a certain generation and of a certain profession used. He looked across at Sam with hard eyes. 'I'll come back down in a minute.'

'Dean, I-' The edge in Dean's look made him quell his protestations, however, and as he turned to head back down to the Impala-if only to make Dean feel better- he came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

'Dean.' He muttered, and in that one word Dean knew something was up. He turned, lip curling in anger as he saw a man in a battered black coat pointing a gun at his brother's head. He didn't recognise the guy, but he looked seasoned, and that made Dean very worried. And very angry.

'I'd put that down if I were you, Winchester.' He growled, motioning Dean's handgun, which was aimed directly at the man's chest. 'Unless you wanna see your brother's brains over the wall?'

'You try it, pal.' Dean spat, finger itching on the trigger. 'Make my day- but I swear to you, you'll be dead before you even get a chance to squeeze that trigger.

'I don't think you understand the trouble you guys are in-' the man clicked the safety off his gun, the noise making Sam wince. 'We know who you are.' His blue eyes narrowed in anger. 'We know what you've done.' He lip curled as he fought with his emotions. 'And we don't forgive easily...' He finished, eyes turning steely.

'Wait!' Dean yelled, his gun disabled and moved out of range in seconds. 'If you make one move on him I swear to god I'll-'

'You'll what?' A deep voice from his side asked. Dean turned to find a shadowy figure coming out of their motel room, his body swathed in darkness- before either Winchester could react the man's fist came out of nowhere. Dean went down hard, caught totally off guard by a punch to his temple that made his head explode in pain and his ears ring. He hit the sodden wooden decking of the motel, a panicked cry from Sam ringing in his ears as darkness misted in his eyes. 'Sammy..' He groaned as he felt blood run down his cheek. A vicious kick to his stomach rolled him off the decking and onto wet grass. He clutched at his stomach as rain fell on his face, stinging his eyes as he saw Sam tackling the guys. Seconds later and he was down to, and Dean felt his world darken around him. 'Sammy...' He whispered thickly through racking coughs, before consciousness finally left him as another peal of thunder shattered the night around them.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Dean came to with a muffled groan, before realising with a thrill of disgust that he was nose-deep in dirty, nicotine stained carpet. He moved his head, wincing as the blossoming bruise on his temple brushed against the faded blue carpet. He lifted himself gingerly from the floor into a half sitting positing. He now noted that the room was completely silent; the noise of it was deafening and more than a little alarming to the older Winchester.

'Dean?' The word was pained and spoken with a slightly higher pitch than normal. Dean turned to the noise, eyes wide- they narrowed in anger as they looked upon his brother.

Sam's nose was caked in blood, with two thick, crusted rivets of blood snaking down his chin. His eye was bruised and there was a gash on his forehead, red and nasty-looking.

'Son of a...' He growled, scrambling up and coming to his side at once. 'You hurt anywhere else?!'

'Like this isn't enough?' Sam tried to joke, but his head was hurting too bad to smile and make it work. 'No, but I gave as good as I got.' He added, weakly flexing his hands, which Dean saw were also caked in blood.

'Oh, I bet you did.' He muttered, before looking closer and seeing Sam's hands and feet were bound by thick rope. He was pinioned to a wooden chair by rope around his waist and chest, with dirty great double knots tying them together. 'These bastards ain't playing around...' He muttered darkly. 'I need a knife to cut through these..'

'You think they're here about...you know.'

'How could they be? I covered our tracks. I made sure...Sammy, I made sure...' He trailed off, rising guilt in his throat. What other reason was there, though?. 'Where are they?'

'Went out about ten minutes ago.' Sam muttered, craning his neck and groaning deeply. 'Said something about getting more stuff and getting ready...'

'Ready for what?' Dean muttered, hands racing to his jacket and jean pockets for anything that could be used to cut Sam free. 'They've taken everything..!' He relayed to his brother, who snorted and immediately regretted it as fresh blood started trickling down his nose again.

'Don't worry, I'm gonna get us out of here dude..' He promised, racing to the small kitchen area and opening drawer upon drawer to find them bereft of anything that could be used to cut same free. His eyes tore around the motel room, desperately seeking anything that could help. 'You hurt?' He heard Sam mutter from his chair.

'Me? You know me Sammy, it'll take more than a few punches to get me down.'

Sam nodded his vision slightly blurry. 'I tried to explain, but every time I opened my mouth they punched me. So I kinda gave up.'

'Bastards...' Dean growled, anger coursing through him. 'They're hunters, right? They'll listen to us.'

'If they give you a chance to speak, maybe..' Sam replied. He was silent for a few seconds. 'What if they don't listen to us, Dean?' He finally asked, a note of fear in his words.

'I don't care whether they do or not... we're not gonna be around long enough to-'

'Dean.' Sam suddenly spoke up- Dean stopped stock still, ears catching the noise of an engine stopping outside, before doors were opened and slammed shut. The brothers looked at each other as footsteps crunched on the gravel outside. 'Damn it.' Dean whispered.

He was at Sam's side in an instant, eyes dark as they watched the door open to the room. He stood in front of him, arm covering his side, as the door shut and the other hunters looked at them from the other side of the room.

'You're awake.' A man with greying hair muttered, voice filled with scant emotion. 'Didn't want to let you miss out on all the fun.'

'You let my brother go.' Dean spat, a nerve jumping in his jaw.

'Not until we have a little chat.'

'A chat?' Dean cast a hand over Sam's injuries. 'You call that a chat?'

'What can I say?' The man shrugged, looking around at the two other men on either side of him. 'I didn't like what I was hearing.'

'Well come on then, let's chat,' Dean muttered, eyes dark. 'Then we can leave.'

'I don't think you quite understand.' The man said, voice turning cold. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handgun. 'You killed a friend. A man with a family, with nothing to do with you- murdered in his own house.'

'I said I could explain-' Sam spoke up. The gun was aimed at him within seconds.

'I don't think you can.' The man said, eyes flashing.

'Lets just calm down!' Dean yelled, arms outstretched as he tried to cover as much of his brother as possible. 'But I tell you one thing- you shoot my brother I will kill you all.' He eyed the three men before him, figuring out his strategy. The gun was aimed squarely at him now, which made him feel a lot better than when it was pointed at Sam.

'You're protecting a killer?' The main guy growled, shaking his head. 'You're a hunter- you know our ways-'

'Just put the gun down and I'll explain!' Dean muttered, hands up to show he didn't have a weapon. 'Let my brother go, and-

'You're brother killed our friend!' The man shouted. 'We don't forgive murderers!'

'It wasn't him! It was a demon!' Dean retaliated, willing the man to understand as he sensed the situation rapidly getting out of control. 'Ok? It was a demon! It got into him and made him kill that hunter. He was possessed, I swear.'

The man hesitated for a second, and Dean, just for one moment, thought that it was over.

'Possessed?' The man repeated. He shook his head darkly. 'Why would a demon wanna kill Steve?'

'Why would Sam?!' Dean replied. 'Huh? Think about it!'

'You expect me to believe that some piss-poor, run of the mill demon would seek out and kill a guy just for the fun of it?' The man growled, eyes narrowed.

'It wasn't a run of the mill demon, you hick! It was a powerful one with a grudge-' Dean realised he had said something wrong when the man straightened, cricking his neck as he went.

'James,' he muttered to the guy on his right, 'go get the bag.' James nodded and walked out. 'Dom- go phone him. He said he'd be right.'

Dom did the same, now leaving the brothers with the man, who was looking at them with a horrible gleam in his eyes.

'Go and get who?' Dean growled, sharing a worried look with Sam, who was desperately trying to wriggle his hands free. His heart sank when he felt the cold smoothness of handcuffs against his skin, coupling with the thick rope. He didn't have a hope in hell of getting lose.

The man ignored him, instead he started fiddling with his gun, making Dean more on edge.

'So, the demon had a grudge?' He shook his head with a dry snort. 'This is the problem with younger generations of hunters,' he muttered. 'You think you can run gigs all around town, killing whatever you want, pissing off whatever creature you come into contact with- and you think that's ok?'

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but the man cut across him. 'So you two messed up a hunt, and now you've got a demon on your tail, pissed at you?' His eyes turned fiery. 'And Steve- well I guess he just paid the price, huh?'

'Listen man, we didn't-' Sam began, but the gun was aimed at his head; the man holding it now seemed to be barely keeping his anger in check. His eyes were bulging, and his lips were curled into a horrible sneer. 'You may have been possessed. I'll give you that, it happens.' He muttered. 'But you might as well have cut his throat yourself.'

'Whoa man, come on-' Dean whispered, eyes flicking the gun and the man's itching trigger finger. 'You- you can't blame Sammy for what a demon did in his skin. You can't do that, man!'

'If you two had done your jobs and ganked the creature-'

'Put the gun down-'

'Or what?!' The man shouted, straightening up. 'I don't see a weapon on you- looks like I'm calling the shots, boy!'

'You touch my brother, and I swear I will-'

'What, like this?' The man muttered. Before Dean could react there was an almighty bang, and a split second later Sam screamed out in agony as a bullet ripped into his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut as Dean swore and flew forwards towards the man, but he opened them as a a dull thud caught his ears; Dean reeled backwards, blood streaming from his nose.

'Sam?!' He yelped instead, darting to his brother's side and squatting unsteadily next him. 'You son of a-' he growled, ripping off his over shirt and pressing it into Sam's wound. He had to keep pressure on or he'd lose too much blood; he could feel his own head pounding, but he could deal with that later.

'Get up Dean.' The man's words were ice now, solid and cold. Demanding. 'I said get up.'

'I gotta-' Dean stiffened as the gun was pressed against his temple. He caught Sam's eyes, anger and guilt ripping into his chest as he saw Sam's face contort as he tried to quell the pain. 'Hang on Sammy.' He whispered as he stood up, glaring at the man behind him.

'You've just made the biggest mistake of your life, pal.'

'No, I think you're brother did the night he killed Steve.'

'How many times we gotta tell you- the punch almost knocked him off his feet; he lurched to the side, eyes squeezed shut.

'You don't get it, do you?' The man shouted, pulling Dean round to face him. 'Demon or not- he was wearing your brother's meat suit. Now we ain't got no demon- but we've got your brother.'

'That doesn't make sense- you're punishing the wrong person.'

'-The way I hear it,' a cold, very familiar voice sounded from the doorway. Dom and James were back from their errands, with a new friend in tow. 'I don't think we are.'

'You gotta be kidding me.' Dean muttered, a thrill of panic spearing his chest as he spat a glob of blood onto the faded blue carpet. He looked down at Sam, who had gone very pale as he too eyed the man that had joined them.

'Hey guys.' Gordon Walker smirked from the doorway, eyes glinting in the darkness. 'Its been a while.'

* * *

Thanks for reading, please review!

X


End file.
